Crimson High
by fluffmania207
Summary: Teresa Lisbon is the new girl at school. She has to deal with fitting in, and realises that true friends can get you through anything. Lisbon's POV. High School AU
1. Chapter 1

Crimson High

**A/N: Well, I'm still considering an idea for another fic, but this one came to mind instead. I'm South African, and so our school year ends in December. I officially have two weeks of school left before I write my final exams. This has had me considering a lot about high school, and life as the 'new kid', so to speak. Thus, this AU was born. This is from Lisbon's POV. I hope you enjoy it, and good luck to all of my fellow South Africans who write their finals soon.**

Chapter one

I hated standing out from the crowd, and arriving at a new school for the first time is about the best way to stand out. I felt awkward stepping from my car into a new life in Sacramento. The Teresa Lisbon who attended school in Chicago had friends, a life. This Teresa Lisbon was a runaway, far from anyone she knew and living alone. I pulled my books closer to my chest and entered the unassuming building before me.

The hallways were crowded, and I felt awkward walking through the people to the only room I knew, principal Minelli's office. He held the door open for me and I slunk shyly through. He smiled at my concerned face as I sat low in my chair. "Teresa," he said kindly, handing me a schedule. "Everyone's nervous on their first day."

'Not everyone's a seventeen year old runaway,' I thought dryly. However, I just smiled at him in response. I had my reasons for leaving my life in Chicago. My mother was killed in a car accident when I was twelve. My three brothers were all in school still, and I left to find work. I promised to send money back to them. Possibilities were better in California, and so, two months before, I had packed my bag in the night and left. I had explained my actions in a note. My father was trying to take care of my brothers, but he was in and out of rehab for alcohol abuse. I had to leave that behind. Start afresh.

Principal Minelli smiled and showed me through to the door, wishing me luck. I nodded my thanks and wandered the emptying halls, trying to find my first lesson, English. I eventually stumbled across the door and let myself in. The lesson was already in progress, and the teacher turned to face me in mild irritation. "Can I help you?" he asked, suddenly realising I was a new student to the school.

I nodded. "Is this Mr Bertram's English class?" my voice sounded huge in the silent room.

Mr Bertram nodded. "You must be Teresa Lisbon." He beckoned me over and handed me a pile of books. "Take a seat, Teresa. The lesson has just begun."

I nodded and sat carefully in the empty seat he indicated. My face was beetroot red as the entire class watched me with interest. The girl seated next to me turned to face me. "My name is Grace Van Pelt," she said with a smile. She glanced around the class dismissively. "Pay them no mind. They're just curious."

"I'm Teresa. Teresa Lisbon." I was immediately beginning to like this girl. Her long red hair was loose about her shoulders, and her blue eyes sparkled when she smiled.

The two boys seated in front of me turned around when Mr Bertram wasn't looking. The taller, gangly looking one with braces smiled at me. "My name's Wayne Rigsby. You can just call me Rigsby."

His Asian companion stared stoically into my eyes. "Kimball Cho."

I smiled at both of them. "Pleased to meet both of you."

They turned around, and I settled into the lesson, relieved to finally know someone.

The bell rang, and we all stood up. I checked my schedule. Science. I glanced across at Grace. "Where would I find Miss Hightower's science class?"

Rigsby turned around to face me. "I have her next. You could walk with me."

I nodded my thanks and followed him from the room. He walked next to me, explaining every room we passed. I glanced over to a large group of students standing near the water fountain, laughing at the tops of their voices. Rigsby followed my gaze and grimaced. "Those are the popular kids. High up on the food chain. The blonde guy," he pointed surreptitiously at a guy with curly blonde hair that stood up from his head like a halo, "that's Patrick Jane. He's basically the head of the group. The dark haired girl next to him," he pointed again, "that's his girlfriend, Lorelei Martins. They date because she's on the cheer squad, and he's popular. The rest of them are their crew. They are all rich, good looking, have everything we all want. They rub it in our faces that they have what we don't."

The group paid us very little attention as we hurried past. I looked up into Rigsby's face, and realised something seething in his eyes. "They've picked on you before, haven't they?"

He nodded, and scowled in the direction of the laughing Patrick Jane. "They make fun of me. They make fun of everyone who isn't as good looking or talented as they are. The outsiders."

I nodded. "Basically, I'm now a prime target."

Rigsby looked down at me as we entered the science room. "They don't do it immediately. But within a month…" his face turned grim.

I felt myself tense up as I headed towards Miss Hightower's desk. She was a pretty young woman, and she smiled sympathetically at me. "Ms Lisbon," she said, handing me my books. "It's good to have you in my class. I hope you enjoy learning here."

I smiled my thanks and headed towards the empty seat in the back corner. I had the feeling that Rigsby's reason for being picked on would now apply to me. Unless you counted the ability to shoot a handgun with any semblance of accuracy a talent, I had nothing to offer. I wasn't rich, – far from it – I didn't have the confidence to be popular, my acrobatic skills were about as graceful as an elephant's, and I was fairly plain in appearance. My black jacket and jeans helped me to blend into many situations, but I would stick out anywhere near that group. I forced myself to focus on the lesson, and ignore the slowly building fear within my stomach.

The bell rang, and I jumped. Rigsby came to my desk. "What's your next lesson?"

I glanced at the schedule. "Biology."

He frowned. "I will have to ask Cho to take you. His locker is next to mine."

I rose to my feet and followed Rigsby from the room. Unfortunately, our route took us past the popular group again, and we both worked very hard to keep our heads down. I refused to look at them, but glanced back as we rounded the corner. I caught Patrick Jane's eye, and he smiled at me. I glanced away quickly and caught up to Rigsby, my face slightly flushed. Cho was waiting at his locker, and I stopped next to him. "Can you take Teresa to biology?" asked Rigsby.

Cho nodded. "Follow me."  
I set off behind him as he wound his way through the people. I could hear the whispers as I passed, but kept my eyes forward. I was so focussed that I nearly walked into the back of Cho when he stopped at a door. We entered together, and I froze momentarily. Two people I recognised from the popular group were in that lesson, a dark haired boy, and a boy with dark blonde hair. They looked at me when I came in, but said nothing. Cho took a seat at one of the tables and waited for me to join him. I headed to the desk and received a pile of books from the teacher, Mr Stevens. The seat next to Cho was empty anyway, and so I joined him. The two guys continued to watch us, and I turned to Cho. "Who are they?" I whispered.

He glanced over at them. "Craig O'Laughlin and JJ LaRoche. Both friends of Patrick Jane." He said the last name in disgust. "JJ is close friends with Lorelei. Craig and Rigsby have some history."

I raised my eyebrows in surprise. "Oh?"

Cho nodded. "Craig has been chasing Grace for months now. But she likes Rigsby. Rigsby likes her, but he's too shy to act. Craig hates Rigsby for Grace liking him. Grace doesn't want to hurt Craig's feelings, so she doesn't tell him to back off. Rigsby doesn't stand up to Craig because he's scared of the popular crowd. It's all very complicated." He rolled his eyes.

I noted with some amusement that his expression didn't change when he spoke. He seemed very bored with it all. "And you?" I asked. "What's your story with them?"

Cho shrugged. "They tease me because I'm Asian and intelligent. Intelligence is the one thing they can't handle."

I smiled at his blatant implication. I was starting to like this Cho. He was a person I could see myself really getting along with. The lesson flew by, and soon we were headed towards the cafeteria for lunch. Grace appeared out of nowhere, followed by Rigsby about ten steps later. Little snippets of conversation were traded between the three of them as we headed towards the cafeteria. I walked in silence, absorbing the feeling of true friendship that hovered between the three of them.

The cafeteria was noisy, and I felt self-conscious as I followed Grace to the counter. I bought a soda – suddenly I wasn't so hungry – and I followed the rest of the group to a table in the back corner. I had a clear view of the popular table, and I watched with mild distaste as they made fun of a girl who passed by. She pushed her glasses up her nose self-consciously and hurried off to a far table. I turned away in disgust. Grace caught my eye and sighed. "They do that to everyone. The behaviour is constantly overlooked by everyone, because their parents are rich, and they have influence. We can't do anything about it because they turn on us. It's awful."

"Something has to be done," I said, pulling my ebony hair away from my face. "They can't do that forever."

Cho glanced at me and shook his head. "As appealing as the thought of doing something is, we have to stay under the radar as much as possible. We can't risk standing out from the crowd, or we will be humiliated in front of everyone."

The rest of the day flew by, and soon I was saying goodbye to my new friends. Grace smiled at me. "See you tomorrow, Teresa."

I flashed her a grin. "Thank you, Grace."

I headed out to where my car was parked, and frowned in confusion. Three people were leaning against my car, blocking my access to the driver's door. I recognised them all, and my heart sank. JJ LaRoche, Craig O'Laughlin, and last, Patrick Jane. I pulled my keys from my pocket and strode – with more confidence than I felt – towards my car. Patrick smiled at me – a challenge – but I didn't react. I drew on all of my practiced control as I opened the passenger door and crawled through. I plopped down onto the seat and started the engine. I revved unnecessarily as I pulled out of the parking. The three asses pressed to my car were nowhere to be seen, but the message was clear; we're watching you.

I drove in the direction of my job. I worked as a cashier in a local convenience store, and I longed for the numbing routine of work to take over my mind. I arrived at the store, and spent the next four hours trying to focus on my job. My shift flew by quickly. Sure the job didn't really pay well, but it gave me money for food and rent, with extra to send back home every month. It wasn't much, but it helped.

As soon as I was in my car again, I turned my car in the direction of the local gun range I was in desperate need of stress relief. I aimed at the target in front of me and pulled the trigger, feeling the stress melt away. The sky was dark when I eventually returned to my one room apartment. It was tiny, with sparse furniture. I flopped down onto my bed, exhausted. Sleep overtook quickly, and I slipped into sweet oblivion.

**A/N2: I hope you're enjoying this so far. If some of the people seem out of character, don't worry, their true characters will reveal themselves in the next few chapters. Please let me know in a review what you think of this story. Thanks.**


	2. Chapter 2

Crimson High

Chapter 2

Weeks turned to months as I finally slipped into a steady routine. Grace, Cho, Rigsby and I had formed a group, and we hung out together whenever we could. I was careful to keep stories of my family from surfacing, not wanting to lie to my new friends. I didn't feel quite ready to tell them why I couldn't hang out after school, or on weekends. My weekends were taken up with my second job as a waitress at a local diner. The pay was slightly better than my job as a cashier, and the extra money did well to support my brothers back home.

Our little group of friends managed to remain under the radar of the popular crowd for the most part. After my nerve wrecking first day at school, the popular crowd paid no more attention to us. The only exception was when Grace and I were standing in front of her locker, chatting. Craig had been subtly trying to get her attention for two weeks, but she studiously ignored him. We were waiting for the first lesson to start. Craig sauntered past us, and winked at Grace. She blushed and looked away, obviously embarrassed. I rolled my eyes. "Two months down the line, and you would think that would be less annoying by now."

She glanced up at me. "It's not that I don't enjoy the attention," she reasoned. "I just wish he wouldn't do that in front of Wayne."

I smiled. "It's just a power play. Now, come on, we're going to be late for English."

She smiled and followed me down the hall.

English was a relatively dull affair. Literature had never really been my strong point, and so I let my mind wander. I was considering what I would eat that night, how much cash I had left, if I would be able to pay my rent, and whether or not I should finally tell my friends I was living alone. My musing was interrupted by Mr Bertram calling my name. I glanced sheepishly up at him. "Read from page twenty-seven," he said, giving me a stern glare.

I nodded obediently and began to read. The words were meaningless anyway, but the lesson raced by quickly.

XxxxxxxxxxxX

The cafeteria was crowded and loud, and the four of us sat at our usual table in the back corner. I watched as Lorelei hung onto Patrick's arm, batting her eyelashes up at him. He seemed distracted, and so engrossed in his conversation with JJ LaRoche that he barely noticed her. I glanced away, not really caring what went on at the popular table. Grace and Cho were deep in conversation, and Rigsby was studying in preparation for a test he had in the next period. I sat in silence, absorbing the comfort of being with friends. That was until a shouting match ensued from the popular table.

The entire room went quiet as Lorelei jumped to her feet and began to yell at Patrick. I listened to her words, and felt my face turn pale. "We are done! You care more for her than you ever did for me. This has gone on long enough, Patrick Jane! This relationship is over! I can't believe I fell for you!" With that, she turned and ran from the room.

Everyone glanced around in surprise. Nobody could believe what we had just witnessed. The school's most talked about couple had just ended it. Worse than that, Patrick didn't even seem fazed by his change in status. He just turned to the person next to him and said something that made them smile. I turned to Grace. "What the hell just happened?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. But I do know that Patrick Jane is now available, and every girl in the school without a boyfriend will be chasing him."

I glanced back at the table where Patrick was sitting, and watched as he produced a coin from nowhere with a flourish. His ice-blue eyes sparkled with delight as his group laughed. He certainly knew how to entertain a crowd.

The bell rang, and we all stood up. I grabbed my shoulder bag and headed for my next lesson, history with Mr Bosco. I enjoyed Mr Bosco's lessons, and he was a surprisingly pleasant teacher to have. I passed by my locker to fetch my history book, and wasn't really paying attention to my surroundings. The catty remarks didn't truly register until I opened my locker. My fingers slipped on the book I was carrying, and I almost dropped it. I froze momentarily, but refused to react to the rude comments I could hear. I slid the book into my shoulder bag and closed my locker again. Lorelei and two of her friends stood just up the hall from me, 'gossiping' rudely about my boots at the tops of their voices. I chose to ignore them as I headed for my next lesson. I had very little time as it was, and none of it could be devoted to external appearances. I wasn't here to please anyone. Let alone a bunch of spoilt brats who had never had to work a day in their lives. I scowled as I entered the classroom, finding my seat quickly.

I sat in history, mulling over the words I'd heard them say. They stung more than I had wanted, and I couldn't concentrate on Mr Bosco's teaching. Lorelei had insulted my favourite jacket, and had called it scruffy. I pulled it closer around my shoulders, protecting myself from a chill I couldn't feel. My boots had seen my through everything, and they were truly a part of me. Her bleached blonde friend had called them ugly and tacky. I felt myself prickling at their words. Money, for me, was scarce, and I sent any spare I had back to Chicago. That left very little for shopping, or even idle indulging. I hadn't had ice-cream, chocolate, or even real sugar, in months. I willed the lesson to be over, so I could rejoin Grace in Spanish class.

Soon, and with some relief, the bell rang. I jumped up and left the room in a rush. I was eager to find Grace, just to have someone to confide in. I took my seat in Spanish, waiting for Grace to arrive. She soon walked through the door, and took her seat next to mine. "I need to talk to you," I whispered.

Grace turned to me. "About what?"

I glanced around. "Not here." I was glad that my afternoon off happened to be that one. "I'll meet you at your locker after school."

Grace smiled at me. "Of course, Teresa. I would be happy to talk."

I smiled back. "Thank you, Grace."

We sat in comfortable silence throughout the lesson, and I found the mundane task of listening to a lesson quite relaxing. The end of the day couldn't come fast enough for me, and time seemed to blur through my final two lessons. Soon, I was standing in front of Grace's locker, waiting for her to arrive. I noted with some interest that Patrick's locker was about ten lockers down from where I was standing. I could tell because I had watched twelve girls shoving their numbers under the door as they walked past. It was a desperately sad thing to watch, and so I just raised an eyebrow and turned away. I could never see myself sinking that low. Grace appeared at my side. "You ready?"

I nodded. "Let's go."

XxxxxxxxxxxX

Two hours later, we were still seated in the same coffee shop. Grace's eyes were wide with shock. I had told her mostly everything. My mother had died, I was raising my brothers, I had left to find work to support them because my father couldn't hold down a stable job, and I was living alone, working two jobs and still attending school. I had left out the part about how I had been physically abused by my drunken father; nobody needed to live that horror with me. She reached out a comforting hand and rested it on my shoulder. "I can't believe you've lived through that, Teresa."

I blinked rapidly, fighting the errant tears that dared to leak out. "It's been a lot, but I'm handling it."

She could see how hard it had been for me to tell her this. I smiled weakly, grateful that someone else knew. Grace tilted her head. "What suddenly brought this on?"

I relayed to her the comments Lorelei and her friends had made earlier that day. Her hands grasped each other tightly as she listened. "I'm so sorry, Teresa. I know what it's like to be on the other end of that attack. Especially since…" her voice trailed off.

I smiled at her. "Thank you for listening to my story, and for being a comfort to me."

Grace patted my shoulder gently. "What are friends for?"

I laughed, and she laughed with me. It felt good to have a friend who cared.

XxxxxxxxxxxX

Christmas approached rapidly, and I couldn't help but miss my brothers desperately. My youngest brother, Tommy, was just eight. He didn't understand why I had to leave, and I missed him the most. I spared what little cash I could, foregoing meals on occasion, so I could send back presents for them. It wasn't a lot, but it was all I could do.

Grace and I grew closer, and I knew that she had shared at least part of my story with Cho and Rigsby. They were very decent about the entire affair, with Rigsby even offering to send money back to my brothers if they needed it. I wasn't used to being cared for, and the feeling was strange. Soon, however, even stranger things took over my mind. Unsigned notes began appearing in my locker. It started one Wednesday, and I blinked in surprise when the note dropped to the floor. I picked it up and opened it.

"Teresa, sapphires do no justice to your glittering eyes. Ebony silk has no texture in comparison to your exquisite locks. Your features are sweet and lovely beyond compare, and many a heart do you now hold, to the envy of those around you."

I read the note again, slightly confused. I then dropped it into my shoulder bag. My heart was racing unnecessarily as I entered my first lesson. I sat next to Grace, and she smiled sweetly at me. "Good morning, Teresa."

I attempted a smile back. "Good morning, Grace."

Cho turned around. "Anything wrong, Teresa?"

He had noticed my change in tone, and I bit my lip. "I'll let you know on that one. I'm not so sure myself."

He nodded and turned back around. Rigsby turned to face Grace, and she smiled at him. He smiled back, and Mr Bertram entered the room. The lesson began, and I felt the worry that I usually kept under strict control seeping into my mind. The note had to have an explanation, everything did. I felt something akin to embarrassment at the flowery descriptions used in the note. None of those descriptions could possibly apply to me.

Over lunch, I showed the note to Grace. Her eyes widened in surprise. She was startled at the descriptions, but found the gesture sweet. The boys agreed with her, although Cho did have some reservations.

The next Wednesday, the same thing happened. A second note appeared. I didn't read it straight away – fearful of what I might see there – but stashed it carefully in the bottom of my bag. I then forgot about it as the day went on. I only remembered it when I arrived back at home after my shift at the convenience store. I pulled it out and sat on my bed, curious at to what it contained.

"Teresa, you hold my heart, haunt my dreams. I can only call you my 'Beautiful Nightmare'. Sweet dreams, Teresa, my Beautiful Nightmare."

I blushed at the words, even though I was alone. These words could not be meant for me.

Every Wednesday, I received a note in my locker. Each week, a new confusion was added to the pile. Who was this person, and why were they sending me notes? I hated not knowing what was going on.

Between my Spanish and Math classes, I walked with Grace to her locker. It was six weeks after the first note had appeared, and we were discussing the latest one. I had showed it to her, and she was laughing at what it contained.

"Teresa, a genie in a bottle could not conjure the exquisite beauty that you are. You hold my heart, my mind. I close my eyes and only see you. You are the light in a day, the stars at night. A beauty that none other can match."

Grace was laughing at the reference to a genie, and she pulled her locker open. A movement to the right caught my eye, and I turned towards it. I nudged Grace with my elbow. Patrick stood, leaning against his locker. He was watching us, an indulgent smile on his face. We both looked at him, and I raised an eyebrow in mild confusion. He then grinned at both of us before sauntering off. "What was that about?" I asked.

Grace shrugged. "Let's just get to class."

I nodded and turned towards my Math class, the incident already forgotten.

**A/N: Please review and tell me what you think about this story so far. For those of you waiting for Jane to appear, have no fear, he will appear in the next chapters. Until then, please let me know how you think this should continue. Thanks.**


	3. Chapter 3

Crimson High

**A/N: Thank you to all of you who reviewed this story. I'm glad you're enjoying it. Now, onwards with Chapter three…**

Chapter three

Christmas and New Year had already passed, and I was back in a steady routine. I had managed to send back presents for my three brothers, and had an emotional conversation over the phone with them. This was my first Christmas alone, and I missed my family a lot.

Life was returning back into a steady routine after the festive season, and the notes in my locker continued. Grace and I expected them, and I showed her the new one every week. I enjoyed the subtle attention I was receiving, and speculation was high amongst the four of us as to who it could possibly be.

The notes took a back burner as life progressed. It was mid February, and I had been in California five months already. It was February fourteenth. Valentine's Day had never been a huge event in my life. Raising three brothers gave me no time for a boyfriend, and I figured that no-one would really be interested in a workaholic with no spare time for fun. That Valentine's Day, a Thursday, had started off horrendously. I had slept through my alarm, and woke late. I had no time for coffee or breakfast, and my car was giving trouble. I had spent ten minutes digging around in the engine, and managed to coat my favourite jeans in engine grease. I rushed into the school, following Grace into English. She looked me up and down, and smiled in sympathy. "Rough morning, Teresa?"

I attempted a smile back as I sat down. "Just one of those days. I would kill for some coffee right now."

Rigsby turned around to look at both of us, and Grace smiled at him. He blushed, and shyly placed a wrapped package on the table in front of Grace. "Happy Valentine's Day, Grace," he mumbled, turning away.

Grace picked the gift up and opened it carefully. Inside lay a fluffy white teddy, holding a heart and smiling happily. "Thank you, Wayne," she said, beaming widely. "I love it."

I smiled at the exchange. It was really sweet of Rigsby to get her the teddy, and I knew that Craig – in all his opulent extravagance – couldn't top this kind gesture. My thoughts turned to the note from the previous day.

"Teresa, in this, the season of love, your radiant glow outshines that of everyone around. Your glowing eyes light up my day, and haunt my dreams. A single smile from you has me flying sky high. Happy Valentine's Day, darling Teresa."

I felt myself blushing at the words. They could not be for me, and I struggled to fathom who would write such notes.

Cho turned to me, pulling me from my reverie. "You look like you could use that coffee."

I chuckled dryly at his somewhat brutal honesty. I felt dreadful. "I had no time for anything this morning. I overslept, and I feel like crap."

Mr Bertram entered and began the lesson. I fought the feeling of utter exhaustion and won, managing to stay awake for the entire lesson.

I stopped at my locker for my science book. I was caught by surprise when I pulled the door open. Nestled in between my books was a steaming cup of coffee. Propped up against it was a note.

"Teresa, you looked positively exhausted this morning. Thought this would cheer you up a little. I have no idea how you like it, but I can tell from your personality that I've got it close. Enjoy your caffeine kick, and have a beautiful day."

I picked the cup up and took a sip. It was black, without sugar, and I savoured the flavour. The caffeine buzzed through my system, and I felt refreshed. I pushed the note into my bag and took the coffee with me to my next lesson. Rigsby raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.

I showed the note to Grace at lunch, and her eyes went wide. "How did he know?"

I shrugged. "It's a mystery to me too. I can't even begin to fathom how someone I've never met could know how I like my coffee."

Cho glanced towards the popular table, responding to a particularly loud set of laughter. I could tell that they were being nasty about someone, because those at the nearby tables were pretending that they couldn't hear the nasty words. I looked harder, and realised that the ringleader, Patrick, was nowhere to be seen. It was Lorelei who held the reins, and she was making some nasty remark about someone. I felt a sudden chill when nearly the entire group looked in our direction. Grace turned away. "Just ignore them. It's easier than a confrontation."

Rigsby glanced at her. I could tell that Lorelei had said something to her, but figured that it was best not to ask. She would talk about it when she was ready. I had a suspicion that it had something to do with the teddy, but didn't ask questions. The bell rang, and we stood up. Grace and I headed off to our next lessons, spending the journey we had together discussing the strange cup of coffee in my locker.

I was still thinking about the coffee at work. It concerned me that someone not only had access to my locker, but also knew how I liked my coffee. It was an odd sensation, knowing I was being watched, and I couldn't relax. The gun range was calling me, and I was in desperate need of stress relief. I couldn't wait to knock off and fire off some rounds. I had two guns of my own. I had saved what ever spare cash I could, usually what ever I had left over from my food allowance, and bought myself both of them. They were simple, no frill handguns. Good quality, and reliable. Living alone was dangerous, and I had to protect myself from any dangers.

I pulled up to my apartment after dark and parked my car. Inside, I sat at my tiny desk and rested my head against the surface. I had relaxed a little at the gun range, but the stress of the day wasn't completely gone. I didn't even know how long I had been sitting at that desk, trying not to think. Something felt off, and I suddenly had this strange sensation that I wasn't alone. I could feel eyes boring holes into my back, and I stiffened. I sat up and pulled the desk drawer open. Inside sat one of my guns, and I pulled it out. I turned slowly, training my gun onto the figure leaning nonchalantly against the far wall. "Who are you?" I asked, aiming the gun at his chest.

XxxxxxxxxxxX

The figure pushed himself away from the wall, and I could see his face more clearly in the dim light from my desk lamp. "Is this really the way to treat you guest, Teresa?"

"Patrick Jane," I said, lowering my gun. "What the hell are you doing in my house?"

He glanced around, apparently amused at my description of the tiny apartment. "Well," he said. "I wouldn't exactly call it a house. An apartment, maybe, or even a shoebox. But not a house…"

I raised my gun again, cutting off his words. "Either you tell me why you're here, or get the hell out before I pull the trigger."

He raised his hands. "I just wanted to check if you were okay. You seemed upset this morning. You're usually much happier this late in the week."

A thought occurred to me – one that probably should have occurred earlier – and I dropped the gun back into the drawer, shutting it slowly. "How do you know my name? Or where I live? Or how I felt this morning? Or how I feel on any morning?"

He grinned blindingly, dropping his hands to his sides. "Magic."

I rolled my eyes, ignoring the way my heart reacted to his smile. "Answer the questions, or I'm taking the gun out again."

Patrick raised his hands in what seemed like mock surrender. "I might tell you that I'm stalking you. I could tell you that I've been following you home for about three weeks, and that I've been watching your every move, but I get the feeling that you would probably pull that gun out again, and possibly use it. Judging by your mood, you're just as likely to club me to death with it as pull the trigger."

I was stunned, and taken aback. Why the hell was this good looking blonde standing in my apartment in the first place? "You're part of the popular crowd," I blurted out. "Why me?"

It was his turn to be surprised, and he blinked rapidly, as though my question was unexpected. "You're different from the rest."

I stood up, thoroughly irritated with his vague answers. "This is wasting my time," I muttered, walking to the door. I flung it open. "Get the hell out of my apartment or I'm calling the cops."

Patrick sighed and walked to the door. "You would think that holding down two jobs while still attending school would be beneficial, but it's really quite stressful on the system. Try to relax more, maybe spend a weekend away…"

My mouth hung open in shock. I was speechless. He turned at the door and chuckled at my expression. I scowled at him as he pulled the door closed, and I heard a faint, "good night, Teresa," through the wooden door.

I sank down onto my bed. The school's most adored boy had been standing in my apartment, 'checking if I was okay'. I felt my head spin. I had only told Grace about the extra work I was doing, and I knew she hadn't told anyone else. How did Patrick know I had two jobs? Was he serious when he said he had followed me home? My head swam with unanswered questions as I attempted to drop off to sleep. My exhaustion made that surprisingly easy, and soon I was oblivious to the world.

**A/N2: Please review and tell me what you think of their first meeting. I would really appreciate your feedback. Also, please tell me how I'm doing in keeping them in character. Thanks.**


	4. Chapter 4

Crimson High

**A/N: Thank you all for your lovely reviews. They really made my day. I hope you enjoy this chapter.**

Chapter four

I woke early that Friday morning. I had enough time to get ready, and I even arrived early to school. I sat in my car, mulling over my surprise visit from the night before. Patrick had barely acknowledged my existence on a daily basis, even when I was a new student at the school. What had he been doing in my apartment? I was suspicious of his story, to say the least. I glanced at my watch and got out of the car.

I met Grace just inside the door, and we walked together to English class. I didn't tell her about the visit, because I was actually embarrassed about it. As we settled into our seats, Rigsby turned around to face us. He looked like he had something big to tell us. "Have you heard the latest gossip?"

I glanced at Grace, who shrugged. "We haven't heard anything. Why? Is it good?"

He glanced around and lowered his voice. "Lorelei tried to get back together with Patrick this morning," he whispered. "Apparently, he told her to get lost, saying that, and I quote, 'his heart belongs to someone else'. She got real mad, and stormed off. I heard her yelling back to him that she was going to find whoever it was and kick her ass. I pity the poor girl, because she doesn't suspect a thing. Lorelei can be real mean about these things."

Cho turned around rolled his eyes. "I couldn't care less about the gossip, but it definitely changes things."

"How so?" I asked, curious.

Cho glanced around. "Lorelei is going to be hunting down the girl that Patrick likes. If she finds out who it is, things will get very messy, very quickly."

I nodded, fighting thoughts that dared to step out of line. 'No,' I thought. 'No, it's not him. It can't be. He wouldn't…'

Cho glanced at me. "You okay?"

I nodded, my thoughts under control. Mr Bertram entered the room, and started our lesson. Soon, we were all seated in the cafeteria for lunch. I watched as Lorelei and two of her friends sauntered into the room, before looking insistently around. It seemed like they were looking for someone. The gossip had spread like wildfire across the school, so nearly everybody knew who she was looking for. The ones who didn't were filled in quietly as Lorelei stalked across to the popular table. She had a word with Patrick, who was lounging in his chair. He smiled and shook his head. Lorelei glared at him before turning and walking away. I glanced across at Grace, who grimaced. "Lorelei has taken this too far."

I nodded. "She can't find who she's looking for, surely."

I glanced up in the direction of the popular table again, and spotted Patrick. He was still sitting in the same place, watching Lorelei with mild disinterest, like he knew she wouldn't find what she was looking for. She had her back turned to him, talking to someone at one of the far tables, and he glanced in our direction. Our eyes locked for no more than half a second, but that was enough for me to read the panic. He glanced away again hurriedly, and my pulse ran wild. I fought the thoughts that swirled though my mind, struggling against the onslaught. Lorelei turned and glanced around the room. I tried not to act suspicious – after all, this wasn't my fault – as I took a sip of my soda. I turned to Grace. "Do you think she will find the person she's looking for?"

Grace shook her head. "I don't know how she could possibly tell who she was looking for."

Cho glanced up, and froze. "Be ready with an excuse," he murmured. "Here comes trouble."

XxxxxxxxxxxX

I didn't have to look up to know that Lorelei was on her way over. I thought quickly, and turned to Grace. "Personally, I don't think that's going to happen. I mean, how would you explain the damage to the roof?"

Grace smiled. "Sorry, I put a llama on the backseat?"

Rigsby laughed. "You could always say you borrowed it from the zoo."

"What zoo would lend anyone a llama?" asked Cho, joining in with our little game. His face remained expressionless.

Lorelei was within earshot, and she raised an eyebrow. Cho glanced up at her. "Can we help you?"

She looked at Grace. "You're that Van Pelt girl, right?" she asked, ignoring Cho's question.

Grace nodded, not breaking eye contact. "I have a boyfriend."

Rigsby turned pale. Lorelei thought for a moment. "Yes," she said. "You're dating him." she pointed at Rigsby, somewhat condescendingly.

Grace nodded again. Lorelei turned to me. "Who's this?"

I looked up into her face. "Teresa Lisbon."

Her lips tightened slightly at my name, and her brown eyes flashed slightly, but she said nothing. We all watched as she stalked to the door and vanished out into the hallway. I glanced at Cho, and he shook his head. "I don't know what her problem is. I choose to ignore her."

I nodded, not liking the look I had seen in her eyes. I knew that I was a target, and the thought scared me a little.

The bell rang, and we all stood up. I went past my locker for my history book, but something didn't feel quite right. I rounded the corner and froze. Lorelei stood leaning against my locker, her face grim. I mentally prepared myself for an argument, and started forward. I was ten paces from where she stood, when she pushed herself away from the locker and blocked my path. "What's this about, Lorelei?" I asked, standing my ground.

She scowled, crossing her arms. "You know what it's about."

Her intimidating pose didn't scare me. I had dealt with a drunken father for years, and physical confrontations meant little to me anymore. "Actually," I replied. "I don't. Care to enlighten me?"

She didn't reply, and I instinctively braced myself as she dropped her arms. Then she launched herself at me.

XxxxxxxxxxxX

I caught the full force of her weight against my chest. I staggered back two steps as she gripped my jacket collar tightly. I pushed her away from me, and she tried to grab my hair. I was vaguely aware of screaming in the background as I swung my fist forwards. It connected with her cheekbone, and she released me. She clutched her face, and scowled at me. I tried to sidestep her attack, but I was just too slow. Her clenched fist caught me on the side of the head, and I staggered. For someone so tiny, she was strong.

I was, however, accustomed to these kinds of blows. I shook it off and braced for the next onslaught. She came in with her manicured fingernails, drawing blood in two stripes across my cheekbone with her French tips. I had her by her dark hair, and she was screaming blue murder. I was suddenly aware of two strong arms wrapping themselves around me, pulling me away from her. I looked past her to see JJ LaRoche pulling her away form me. She struggled, and clawed at his arms. I stood still, and the arms released me. I didn't turn to see who it was, but a hand was gently guiding me in the direction of the nurse's office. "Come, Teresa," a voice said. "You're bleeding."

I nodded mutely and allowed myself to be led away from my locker. The nurse's office was just up the hall, and soon we had reached the door. I glanced up and into a pair of intense blue eyes. Patrick smiled back down at me and opened the door. I stepped through and caught sight of myself in a mirror on the far wall. My hair was a mess, and I had a long trail of blood running down my pale skin. I smoothed down my hair, and attempted to wipe away the blood with my fingers.

Patrick chuckled. "That's not going to work, Teresa. You need to clean it properly. Come here."

He gently pulled me by the hand, leading me to a chair in the corner. I sat down, and he rummaged around in one of the cabinets. The nurse appeared from the back room. "Mr Jane," she said, scolding him. "What are you doing digging around in my cabinets?"

Patrick looked up at her and smiled. "I'm cleaning the scratches on Teresa's face. She got in a little scuffle with her locker door."

The nurse smiled at me. "I'll leave you to it then."

She vanished back into the room, shutting the door behind her. Patrick returned to where I was sitting, carrying several items. I watched as he opened the antiseptic and applied a little to a piece of gauze. He dabbed it against the first scratch, and I gritted my teeth against the sting. "Why me?" I asked as he gently wiped the blood away.

"Lorelei has, issues," he replied, smiling at me.

I rolled my eyes. "I never would have guessed."

He chuckled again. "She gets possessive. I guess you were just in the wrong place at the wrong time."

My eyes narrowed. "Uh-uh. I was targeted. Why?"

Patrick smiled at me. "Do you want me to cover this?"

I noted the sudden subject change, but sighed went along with his little game. "No, it will heal better uncovered."

He raised an eyebrow. "Are you a medical expert now?"

I grimaced, not wanting to broach the subject. I could recall countless times that I had administered first aid to myself. "Let's just say, I have a little practice with this kind of thing."

Patrick raised an eyebrow. "With getting into fights?"

I looked down, but didn't reply. My fights with my father were a personal matter. He seemed to understand, and he smiled sympathetically at me. He stood up and helped me to my feet. "I'm late for class," I mumbled, looking around for my missing bag. "Where's my bag?"

Patrick glanced towards the door. My bag sat on the floor just inside the door, where he had evidently dropped it. I went over to pick it up, but Patrick's hand on my shoulder stopped me. I turned around to face him, and he rested his hand on my hip for just a moment before hr dropped it to his side. "Teresa," he said, looking me in the eyes. "If you ever need anything, just call me."

I nodded and walked to the door. I picked up my bag, and turned around again. "Thank you, Patrick."

He smiled, and I smiled back. Then I left the room, in a hurry to reach my history lesson before it ended.

XxxxxxxxxxxX

I arrive home after dark, and gingerly felt the lump on the side of my head. It didn't hurt too badly, and so I undressed in preparation for a long bath. I automatically checked the pockets of my jeans, and found an odd piece of paper in my front pocket. I opened it, and realised that it was a scrap of paper containing Patrick's phone number. How it got into my pocket was beyond me, but I didn't argue. I had my bath and got dressed for bed. I went to lie down on my bed, trying to get a relatively early night for a change. I was working a double shift the next day, and I needed a full night's sleep. I tossed and turned for about two hours before I gave up. Lorelei's attack earlier that day had me wondering. Did she suspect that I was the girl Patrick had rejected her for? My name had rung a bell in her mind; why? It just didn't make sense. Sleep eventually took over, restless at best.

**A/N2: I hope you enjoyed this. A special thank you to Lorna, for the prompt for this chapter. Please review and tell me how I'm doing. I really do appreciate your feedback. Thanks.**


	5. Chapter 5

Crimson High

**A/N: Thank you to all of you who reviewed. I really do love hearing from you guys.**

Chapter five

I was halfway through my second shift at the diner, and things had been going well. Grace, Rigsby and Cho had already been to the diner that morning to say hi, and I was grateful that they made the effort. One of the other waitresses, Samantha Andrews, was busy serving a table by the door when I heard the bell hanging over the door chime. I was in the back, fetching a plate of bean stew, when she came rushing through to me. "Teresa," she hissed. Her blue eyes sparkled excitedly. "The cutest guy just walked through the door. I'm going to serve him."

I rolled my eyes. This was nothing new for Samantha. She was forever telling me about some hot guy who had walked through the front door. "Well," I said. "As long as the boss doesn't find out, do what you want. But I don't want any part of it."

Our boss, a gentleman named Bret Stiles, didn't approve of us fraternising with the customers. It wasn't strictly against the rules, but he just thought it to be unprofessional. I took the plate through to the front and set it down in front of an elderly man. I turned around to attend to a table behind me, and froze. Samantha was smiling and flipping her blonde hair for a very familiar face from school. Patrick sat at a booth in the corner, his hands resting nonchalantly on the table. Samantha was giving it her best shot, but Patrick just ignored her efforts. He quietly asked Samantha for something, and she nodded quickly. She came past me and smiled. I shook my head at her before turning to my table. I walked back into the kitchen several minutes later, and found Samantha holding a tray that contained a teapot and a teacup and saucer. "Tea?" I asked incredulously, raising an eyebrow.

She nodded. "That's what cutie in the corner wants. It was definitely not what I expected from someone as gorgeous as him, but hey, he's still hot."

"If you're embarrassed to carry that tray out," I said dryly. "I can take it to him."

She shook her head. "He's cute. I want to get a chance before you come in and take over."

I watched from the doorway as Samantha sauntered across the diner and placed the tray in front of him. Patrick glanced up at her as she leant over him. She asked him if he wanted anything else, and he shook his head. She straightened up and wandered off to tend to her next table. Patrick spotted me as I headed over to my table and smiled brightly. I smiled back and continued to serve the waiting customer. Half an hour later, and Patrick was still sitting at the booth. Samantha had been back to him about five times asking if he wanted anything else, but he continued to refuse her offers. In a lull in service, I strolled over to his table. "Can I get you anything else?" I asked, pulling out my notepad.

Patrick smiled up at me. "I was wondering when you would come over to say hello."

I rolled my eyes. Patrick studied my face carefully. "You're covering those scratches very well."

I reached up to touch my face. "We need to talk about that later."

He frowned momentarily, but smiled again. "When do you knock off?"

I glanced at my watch. "Another hour."

He shrugged. "I'll wait for you to finish up, and then we can go back to your place."

I nodded slowly. "Can I get you anything else?"

He shook his head. "I'm happy just sitting here."

My shift ended, and I turned to Samantha. "See you tomorrow."

She nodded and continued to wipe the last of the tables. She hadn't been too upset that Patrick had ignored her, and I was grateful. The last thing I needed was another fight. Patrick stood at the door. "Hurry up, Teresa." He said, bouncing on the spot. "We need to go."

Samantha looked up at the sound of his voice, and frowned in confusion. I sighed and followed him through the door. I got into my car and drove back to my apartment. He followed behind me in his light blue Citroen. As I parked my car, he pulled in behind me and turned his engine off. He was at my door before I could even get my seatbelt off completely, and he had pulled my door open. I sighed and stepped out onto the sidewalk.

Inside, I flipped the light switch at the door, illuminating the tiny room. Patrick followed me through the door, shutting it behind him. The apartment consisted of three rooms; a living room area, a bedroom big enough for a single bed, and a bathroom the size of a postage stamp. Patrick glanced around the living area. It had a kitchenette set into one corner, and he headed in that direction. I went through to the bedroom and put down my purse. I went back through to the living room to find Patrick digging through my cupboards. "What are you looking for?" I asked, sitting at the desk.

Patrick turned around. "You have no actual food."

I nodded. "I know. Money's a little tight this month."

He tilted his head. "It's one of your brother's birthdays."

I stiffened. I had been skipping at least four meals a week so I would have extra money for a gift. It was my eldest brother, James, who turned fourteen that month. How could he possibly know that? He resumed his perusal of my cupboards, and I watched from my desk. "Found anything you like yet?"

He opened the tiny bar fridge and shook his head. "Anything you have is either past it's prime or entirely unappealing to the senses. You need actual food, Teresa. Starving yourself isn't healthy."

I snorted. "Well, excuse me for trying to survive on what I can earn."

He closed the fridge and stood up. "Have you ever considered asking one of your friends for help? I'm positive they wouldn't mind lending you money. You could have even asked me."

I frowned. "Why would I want to do that? I don't need anyone's help. I'm surviving okay on my own."

His face softened, and he pulled out his cell phone. He dialled a number and stepped out of the door. I turned the chair around to face the desk and rested my head against the surface. Patrick was right, of course. I could just ask. But that was a weakness I did not want to show. Grace would worry if she knew how I was living right now. I closed my eyes. What felt like mere moments later, a gentle hand on my back startled me? I sat up and blinked. "Teresa?" a gentle voice behind me said. "Teresa, wake up. The food has arrived."

I turned around to find Patrick leaning over me. I stretched and stood up. On the counter sat a pizza box, and I smiled. "I haven't had pizza since…" my voice trailed off as a painful memory of my mother resurfaced.

Patrick rubbed my back gently, and went to fetch the pizza box. He looked around for somewhere to sit, and I smiled sheepishly. "I can't exactly afford a couch. Or a table. Or a second chair."

He smiled back at me. "You take the chair. I'll sit against the wall."

He opened the box and offered me the first slice. I didn't realise how hungry I was until I took my first bite. Soon the pizza was finished, and I glanced down to where Patrick was sitting. I had some questions to ask. "Why did Lorelei target me specifically? What did I do wrong?"

He glanced up at me. "Always one to take responsibility onto yourself, Teresa." He shook his head. "It wasn't anything you did. She just didn't like you much."

I frowned. "What did I ever do to her?"

"Teresa," he said with a gentle smile. "It's not about what you did or didn't do. She felt threatened by you. Even right in the beginning."

I frowned. Lorelei, with her dark hair and eyes, and her somewhat exotic appearance, was far more attractive than I was. "How did I threaten her?"

Patrick stood up, and came over to my chair. He pulled me to my feet and into an unexpected hug. His arms wrapped tightly around me, and I stood still. He smelled spicy and sweet, and I breathed in his scent. I was unsure about what to do next. "Teresa," Patrick whispered into my ear. "You stole what she never could. And that made her jealous of you."

The pieces fell abruptly into place, and I stiffened. The letters, the coffee, the visit, Lorelei's attack, even him being here now, all had clear meaning. "Patrick," I murmured, slipping my arms around his waist. "I don't know what to say."

I felt him chuckle. "You don't need to say anything, Teresa."

I tried to pull away, knowing that I couldn't think clearly this close to him, but his grip tightened. "Let me go," I insisted, struggling against his arms.

He dropped his arms and stepped back. "Teresa," he said. "From the moment I saw…"

"Stop," I said, holding up a slightly trembling hand. "I don't want some story, when three months down the line I will mean no more to you than what Lorelei does now."

He shook his head. "It's not like that. Lorelei never really meant anything to me. I pitied her, but that was it."

I frowned. "I don't believe you."

"Teresa, please."

Patrick took a step towards me, but I turned away. "Prove to me that this isn't some sick joke – that this is real – and maybe I'll give you a chance."

Patrick's face darkened. "I would never hurt you that way."

I looked up into his eyes, and I could feel the stubborn set to my chin. "Prove it, Patrick Jane."

His eyes shone like sapphires. "Trust me, Teresa. I will. I will prove it, because you're worth it to me."

I stared into his eyes, searching for any sign of deception, but all I saw was a fierce determination. I swallowed, and watched him take a step back.

He turned and walked to the door. He paused with his hand on the frame. "By the way," he said, almost nonchalantly. "You gave Lorelei one hell of a black eye. It was a pretty good shot. I came around the corner as she attacked you. You had hit her before I could take two steps."

I felt myself grin vindictively. "Serve's her right."

Patrick laughed. "Good night, Teresa. Sleep well, darling."

I blushed, and he strode from the room laughing.

He pulled the door shut behind him, and I turned off the light. I headed through to the bedroom and flopped back onto the bed. My mind was attempting to process what had just happened, and I lay there for ages before finally dropping off to sleep.

**A/N2: Please tell me what you think in a review. I would love to hear your ideas and opinions. What do you think Jane should do to win Lisbon's heart? Please send your ideas. Thanks.**


	6. Chapter 6

Crimson High

**A/N: Again, thanks to the constant reviewers who keep coming back to this story and reading it. I'm glad you're enjoying it.**

Chapter six

That Monday, I pulled my Peugeot into the school parking lot. As I got out, I spotted Grace at the front door of the school. I walked over to her. "What's going on?" I asked, noting the crowd gathering just inside the door.

Her face was grim. "You should see this."

I followed her through the crowd, and stopped in my tracks. Littering the hallways were hundreds of pieces of white paper. I picked one up. It was simple black writing printed onto white paper, but I understood the meaning behind it perfectly. "I'm proving myself to Teresa."

Grace read it and frowned. "We still haven't worked out what it means, or who did it, or why your name is mentioned. It's just weird, really."

I had my suspicions, and I slid the piece of paper into my pocket. I turned to Grace. "I think I know who did this, and why."

"Who?" she asked. "Why?"

"I promise to tell you later."

She frowned, but I turned and headed up the hallway. I passed the janitor at the end of the hallway. He was wearing his customary red overalls, and so we used that to identify him. No-one knew his real name, so we just called him Red John. He was sweeping up the paper, and frowned when I passed by. I continued to walk and soon I spotted who I was looking for. "Patrick Jane," I said, stopping in front of him.

"Teresa," he said. "How are you this morning?"

I ignored the question. "Really?" I asked, pulling out the piece of paper. "This is all you could come up with?"

He smiled as he took the paper from me. "I thought that you would like the surprise."

I raised an eyebrow. "So you thought to litter the entire school in annoying bits of paper? It will take weeks for Red John to find all of them. You know how he hates a mess to start with."

He shrugged. "It was a reminder to everyone else that I'm going to prove myself, no matter what."

I sighed and turned away. "This is completely unnecessary."

"I knew you would say that, but that's fine. What you deem to be necessary and what I deem to be necessary are two completely different things."

"I realise that," I countered. "But you didn't need to be so extravagant."

He shrugged. "I'm a showman. It's what I do."

I turned away. "Patrick, just be a little more subtle next time."

He put his hand on my shoulder. "Teresa, I will prove that this is real. I promise you that."

I walked away, leaving him standing there. He would have to do better if he wanted to win me over. But I suspected that this was just the beginning.

My suspicions were confirmed when I opened my locker. Inside sat a simple black box, like one from a jewellery store. I was hesitant to open it, and so I slid it into my bag. I reached my English class, and Grace looked expectantly up at me. To avoid having to tell her what was really happening – and that I knew who was behind all of it – I pulled out the black box. Her eyes went wide. "What's inside it?"

I shrugged. "I haven't opened it yet."

She watched as I put the box onto the table and eased the lid open. Nestled in a bed of red velvet lay a golden pendant on a thin gold chain. It was flat and oval, with three tiny hearts punched through it. She gasped and I blushed. I pulled it out and turned it over. My name was engraved onto the back. "It's beautiful," murmured Grace.

I nodded. Patrick had obviously spent an embarrassing amount of money trying to impress me, an amount of money that would have done well back home. I put the pendant back into the box. Grace frowned. "Aren't you going to put it on?"

I shook my head. "Why? I don't even know who it's from."

She sighed. "Teresa, somebody obviously likes you and wants to impress you. It would be sad if you didn't at least show you appreciated the effort."

I shrugged and slid the box back into my bag. Mr Bertram entered, and the lesson began. I thought about the pendant. Patrick didn't need to spend that amount of money on me. I knew that that money could have been used more wisely, and I felt annoyed at the waste. The lesson ended, and I followed Rigsby to science with Miss Hightower. As I entered, she came over to me. "I was told to give you this," she said softly, handing me an envelope.

I sat down in my seat and opened the envelope. I was shocked at the contents. I pulled out the note and opened it.

"Teresa," it said. "I know you have probably spent the last lesson mulling over the cost of the pendant I gave you, and so I decided to ease your mind and give you the equivalent amount of money in cash. Just a small donation towards supporting your brothers back home. I hope you appreciate my efforts, Teresa. Patrick."

I felt my hands shaking as I pulled out the money. Six hundred and fifty dollars. I slid the money back into the envelope and sat in stunned silence for the rest of the lesson. Not only had Patrick actually decided to help support my family back home, but he had spent six hundred and fifty dollars on a pendant for me. My mind was racing when the bell rang. I headed out to my locker, and opened the door. Inside I found another note.

"By the way, Teresa, don't bother going to work today. I call them and they gave you the day off. You need a rest from daily life."

I put the note, along with the money and the pendant, back into the locker and shut it. My next lesson passed in a blur, and soon I was walking with Cho to the cafeteria for lunch. As we got to the door, I stopped walking. Patrick sat with Grace and Rigsby at our table in the corner, talking earnestly to both of them. Cho tugged my arm. "Let's go see what he wants."

I nodded and followed him across the room. Patrick glanced up and spotted me walking towards him. He said one final thing to Rigsby before handing him something. He then got up and left the table. Cho and I glanced at each other before sitting down with Grace and Rigsby. "What was that about?" I asked.

Grace glanced at me, and smiled slightly. "He told us to give you something when you got here. Was he the one who left the notes, and the bits of paper?"

I nodded at her. Her eyes went wide. I frowned as Rigsby handed me the object Patrick had given him. It was a flat gold box with a fancy name written on the outside. I pulled it open and found a thick silver bracelet inside. It was a twisted rope and looked very expensive. I stood up and headed in the direction he had gone. As I stepped through the doors, I saw him standing at the end of the hallway. "Patrick," I said, walking over to him. "Giving me expensive gifts won't prove anything except that you have very little regard for money and spending."

He smiled. "I know that, but I'm proving myself, remember? This is just trial and error for me. I'll find something that proves to you what you mean to me."

I shrugged, and a question popped into my head. "Why do I have the day off?"

He grinned at me. "So I can spend the rest of the day proving myself."

I shook my head. "Patrick, I don't want you to spend money on me."

He tilted his head and studied my face. "You're worried because you're being spoilt while your brothers are suffering back home. Don't worry, I'm sending them money as well. Whatever I spend on you, that same amount goes back to them. You can just relax and have fun."

I felt myself beginning to tear up. I blinked rapidly and looked away. Patrick watched my reaction to his words and gently touched my face. "You don't have to do this," I murmured.

"Don't cry, Teresa," he said gently, pulling my face up. "I'm doing it because you're worth it to me." I stepped back, and he dropped his arms. I still clutched the box Rigsby had given me, and Patrick smiled. "I take it you got your gift."

I nodded and looked down at the box. "So, what are we doing this afternoon?"

He raised an eyebrow. "That's a surprise. I'll pick you up from your house after school."

He touched my cheek gently before turning around and striding away. I was left alone in the hallway, clutching the box tightly with both hands.

XxxxxxxxxxxX

I waited outside my apartment for Patrick to arrive. I gripped tightly to my purse as I waited. Soon, the blue Citroen appeared around the corner, and it stopped in front of me. Patrick left the engine running as he got out. He walked around the front and opened my door for me. I smiled as I stepped up to the car and got in. He joined me inside and drove away from my house. I put my purse onto the floor and sat back in my seat. I glanced down at my jeans and attempted to calculate when last I had washed them. They were looking a little grimy, and I knew they were due for a wash soon. Patrick glanced across at me. "I don't care what they look like. As long as I'm with you, I'm happy."

I blushed, and he laughed. "I don't exactly have a huge amount of clothing," I said, watching the landscape speed past. "What I do have barely lasts me a week. I can't help having to re-wear a lot of it. People don't really notice, so it's fine."

I watched him shrug. "I notice, and it's not fine. That's why we're going here first."

He pulled off of the road and drove into a mall parking lot. He turned off the car and watched as I fidgeted with the seatbelt. "Patrick," I said again. "You don't have to. I'm surviving with what I have. Really."

"Teresa," he said, taking my hand. "I want to do this because I care about you. I worry that you're not eating, that your clothing isn't even lasting you a week, and that you're wearing yourself out with work. Please just humour me and let me do this for you. Please, Teresa."

I looked down at our joined hands, then back up into his face. His mesmerising blue eyes held mine, and I nodded. He grinning blindingly and got out of the car. I followed him into the mall, and he headed towards a big clothing store. At the door, he grabbed my arm. "Pick whatever you want."

I felt overwhelmed as I walked slowly through the aisles. I didn't think I had seen that much clothing in one place before. I picked up a shirt from the rack and held it out at arm's length. It was purple, and I liked the style. I glanced at Patrick. "If you want it, take it."

I nodded, and clung tightly to the shirt. I moved along slowly, and Patrick laughed. "What's so funny?" I asked, looking around nervously.

He grinned. "You look so lost, like the shelves are going to jump out and bite you. Here," he grabbed several items from some of the shelves. "Try these on and see what you like or don't like. We can put back what you don't like, and I'll get you what you do like."

I nodded as he handed me the clothing. He gave me several more items as we walked through the store. We walked together in the direction of the dressing room. "Patrick," I said. "Thank you."

He smiled. "Show me when you've tried something on."

The next two hours was taken up with me trying on clothing, and deciding what I liked. I settled on a surprisingly large amount of clothing, and Patrick grinned. "See?" he said as we left the store. "I said you would enjoy yourself."

I felt myself smile. "This was fun."

I carried the bags with me as we went out to his car. He opened the trunk and I put them in. "Now," he said. "You need food in your house. Real food, not the crap you keep buying for yourself."

I blushed again. "Grocery shopping?"

He nodded, pulling into another parking lot. Half an hour later, we returned with several bags of food. Patrick turned the car in the direction of my house, and I leant back against the seat. "Patrick," I said, staring off into the darkening sky. "Thank you for today."

He took my hand. "You never asked me how I knew about your brothers."

I shrugged. "The thought never crossed my mind."

He sighed. "I was in the coffee shop that day. I heard you telling Grace your story."

I stiffened. He knew pretty much the whole story. "So you know why I'm in California."

He squeezed my hand. "There is one thing, though," he said, glancing at me. "I got the impression that you didn't tell Grace the whole story. That some details were omitted."

I nodded. "I kept some of it to myself. To protect her."

He sighed. "My story is different. I was born and raised in the carnival. My dad used me as a sideshow, and taught me cold-reading, hypnosis. He called me the Boy Wonder. Basically, I was a fake psychic. My mother left the carnival when I was ten, and took me with her. I've been living with her ever since. I haven't seen my father since we left. But I still have the skills I was taught. I could probably guess what you omitted."

I pulled my hand away. "I don't think you can."

He didn't even turn his head. "You left out some details to protect Grace and the others from your past. It was something horrific, and very recent. You wouldn't have left your brothers if it weren't absolutely necessary, so it must still be happening. It has something to do with your father, which is why you don't trust me."

I sat very still, not saying anything. I didn't want to give away how close he was.

He went on. "I know he was prone to drinking, and so I can only deduce that he abused you physically. Probably beat you quite violently on occasion. You took most of the beatings to protect your brothers."

My breath caught in my throat, and Patrick nodded grimly. "My dad's back in rehab again," I murmured. "The boys are with friends up the road from the house, being cared for until he comes back out again."

I absentmindedly brushed my fingers lightly over my lips. I remembered the countless times I had stared at myself in the mirror and seen the bruises of another rough night. The last time it had happened, my bottom lip had been split open. I had needed two stitches. Patrick reached over and grabbed my hand. He brought it to his lips and kissed it softly. "I promise to do everything in my power I can to protect them. I promise, Teresa."

My hand tingled at the contact, and we pulled up to my apartment. "Thank you for the day, Patrick. I really enjoyed it."

He laughed and turned off the car. "You really think you're going to get rid of me that easily?"

I shook my head. "No. You're quite persistent. Would you like to come in?"

He nodded, and helped me carry everything into the house. I packed my new clothing into the tiny cupboard as he clonked around in the kitchenette. I could smell food cooking, and I came through to see what he was making. "Pasta, Teresa," he said. "I'm treating you to a real meal."

I smiled. "I'm almost done here. Call me when it's ready."

He nodded, and I went back to my clothing. Ten minutes later, he called my name. I grinned as I walked through to the other room. The meal was divine, and I savoured every mouthful of it. Soon, he stood up to leave. "See you tomorrow, Teresa," he said at the door.

I nodded. "Thank you, Patrick."

He pulled the door shut, and I was once again alone with my thoughts. He hadn't quite proved himself yet, but he was close. I turned off the light and got into bed. I soon slipped into sweet black oblivion.

**A/N2: Please tell me what you think of Jane's efforts. A review or two would be nice too. I appreciate opinions or criticism. Thank you all for reading.**


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